Green Valley should have been a welcome break from the monotony of the two-month patrol. March. Camp. Sleep. Repeat. A stream of black and red leather snaking through the landscape. Every week or so they would interrogate a settlement, gathering news, intimidating the population, and, most importantly, collect tribute. Kyle always chuckled at fate’s molding of the old into the new. Death and taxes: what a perfect idiom to describe their existence.
It was good for him to laugh; Lieutenant Colonel Kyle Davar needed ways to manifest his emotion, and command did not afford such luxuries. He had to be strong, act impartially, wear the face of authority, lead. For one whose soul demanded physical outlets, the need to push himself into the back of his own mind was troublesome. That flame inside him never vanished, Selene and Jess always said, and he needed to let out to burn before it burned him.
The red battalions used to provide the perfect release. Phanes Bay had needed to set the status quo, and the surrounding settlements took exception to that. No other action releases the same intensity as battle, so Kyle enlisted. He fed his fire with the roar of battle, the heat of a roaring fire, and the stench of the aftermath. And afterwards he would be calm, stand a little straighter, have a spring in his step.
Now the status quo was set and Kyle bore the blood-red stripes of command on his gauntlets. Towns and villages did not resist, fewer bands raided their patrols, and the now Lieutenant Colonel had trouble justifying his participation in the dirty work. His outlets dwindled in occasion, but the fire inside still burned.
And so the aptly colored fields of Green Valley gave Kyle the opposite of what he needed. After almost two months of the nothing that should have been something, two days of fitful rest at the orderly, almost pedantically run way-station tested his patience further. He craved adrenaline to burn the itch out of his system, but no force would strike on the most fortified road in a hundred miles. He wanted a soldier to step out of line so he could step in against them, but would they deserve the rage that Kyle would undoubtedly scorch them with?
Across the grounds beneath him was a flurry of motion as hundreds of feet trampled the grounds, kicking dust in the air of the dirt patches immediately surrounding the complex. Beyond that, grass crept into the lesser-traveled paths to stretch over a mile before becoming forest; no one enjoyed a surprise attack. Surveying the radius from atop the fort walls, hand unconsciously gripping one of the mounted spring-bows, the icing was set onto the cake: the tour was over. When they marched in an hour, it would be straight back to the city, and there was no reason to take any path other than the Iron Road. Decades of experience had taught the world never to strike there.
“Sir.” The young voice snapped him out of his spiral of thought.
“I’ll be downstairs in five, soldier,” the Lieutenant Colonel responded curtly. That was enough for the boy.
With time approaching, Kyle took one last breath before moving to join his men. When he left his vantage, his hand trailed wistfully on the crossbow, scratching against the rust setting in. He’d have to speak with someone about that before he left.
On the grounds, with the march was nearly underway, Kyle came face to face with the reason for his extended stay in purgatory. Green Valley had the electricity and devices it needed, but everything requires repair, especially when soldiers are involved. So a set of engineers had resided at the base for a couple weeks now to get the way-station functioning again, and had delayed the battalion's departure to provide an escort once their work was done.
The smooth face framed in blonde before him belonged to Elizabeth Vogel. Kyle had seen her over the past couple days in meetings with the other officers and directing her engineers. Regardless of who she was in the city, there was a chain of command out here and she was at the top of her little world. Seeing him, she extended a soft hand.
“Lieutenant Colonel Davar. I understand we’ll be marching alongside you for this journey. I hope you don’t mind a chatty companion.”
March? The woman looked too soft to handle more than an hour of their pace. Looking behind the woman, though, he saw a set of pack-horses laden with all sorts of tools and devices. There was no room for passengers.
Looking back to the engineer, he saw her as more prepared than he had come to expect of civilians. Sturdy black boots and form-fitting clothing meant she wouldn't be dragged down by the complaints of her own body. Notably, there were no sleeves; she wouldn’t have to worry about heat as the day went on. Suddenly feeling the weight of his armor, Kyle wished he could say the same.
“It will be no trouble at all, ma’am. Just keep the pace.” The officer turned from their conversation to bark a commands. “Form up!”
The road was hot today, both the the sun and the fire within. It was an itch. Kyle could go long periods of time without scratching it, but he needed to eventually. He was supposed to have had it by now. Jess and Selene would know what to do. They always knew better than him.
“Fuck!”
Elizabeth had tripped, but the human had barely begun falling before Kyle grabbed her arm and yanked back to steady her. Her skin felt smooth and unbroken to his rough hands; Humans really were soft.
“Thank you, officer” Elizabeth gasped.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“So? What are your thoughts on it?”
What? Had they been talking? Kyle had really zoned out there.
“I’m afraid you startled me enough to lose my train of thought,” he replied.
“Ha! Well if my sloppy civilian marching is too much for you, perhaps you really do need to make room for me to ride somewhere.” She jumped in the air to turn around, continuing to keep pace as she looked behind. She was smiling broadly. How come she got to enjoy herself while he felt trapped?
“How about in there? I can’t imagine it’s very full.
He turned to see the carriage Elizabeth pointed to halfway down the remainder of the train of bodies. It consisted of thick wooden planks that did not match each other, and dull steel bindings at the corners and across the door. The soldiers kept their distance as if the smell of rotten meat were seeping through the openings.
The Lieutenant Colonel’s mouth drew to a line. “I’m afraid we cannot do that, ma’am. That’s where we keep the taxes.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “You collect that much?” Her voice rose dramatically in pitch as she spoke.
“No,” Kyle replied, his eyes choosing to focus on the trees surrounding them. Under the cloudless sky, it was apparent just how many shades of green they held. “The other taxes.”
“Oh.” She turned back around, wringing her hands and looking anywhere else. “Them.”
"For the people who made this system, you sure seem ashamed of it."
Elizabeth took a deep breath, as if crisp forest air would provide the answers she sought. If it could, the sun had baked the answers out by now, leaving nothing but stale oxygen and dust.
"It– I mean– we do what we must to survive. They fall under that category. It's not like they live in discomfort or anything."
Kyle couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Now I'm just a lowly barren over here, uninformed about how reproduction works and all that, but it's my understanding that annually going into labor would cause... discomfort."
Elizabeth burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again. "Don't remind me. The priestesses like to tell us it's just an ache that lasts longer than you'd like, but all I hear from my friends is that they wish it were worse just so they could finally black out from it all."
"Sounds like military life."
Kyle and Elizabeth continued to talk as the march went on. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he felt the flame die down, just a little bit.
It was good for him to laugh; Lieutenant Colonel Kyle Davar needed ways to manifest his emotion, and command did not afford such luxuries. He had to be strong, act impartially, wear the face of authority, lead. For one whose soul demanded physical outlets, the need to push himself into the back of his own mind was troublesome. That flame inside him never vanished, Selene and Jess always said, and he needed to let out to burn before it burned him.
The red battalions used to provide the perfect release. Phanes Bay had needed to set the status quo, and the surrounding settlements took exception to that. No other action releases the same intensity as battle, so Kyle enlisted. He fed his fire with the roar of battle, the heat of a roaring fire, and the stench of the aftermath. And afterwards he would be calm, stand a little straighter, have a spring in his step.
Now the status quo was set and Kyle bore the blood-red stripes of command on his gauntlets. Towns and villages did not resist, fewer bands raided their patrols, and the now Lieutenant Colonel had trouble justifying his participation in the dirty work. His outlets dwindled in occasion, but the fire inside still burned.
And so the aptly colored fields of Green Valley gave Kyle the opposite of what he needed. After almost two months of the nothing that should have been something, two days of fitful rest at the orderly, almost pedantically run way-station tested his patience further. He craved adrenaline to burn the itch out of his system, but no force would strike on the most fortified road in a hundred miles. He wanted a soldier to step out of line so he could step in against them, but would they deserve the rage that Kyle would undoubtedly scorch them with?
Across the grounds beneath him was a flurry of motion as hundreds of feet trampled the grounds, kicking dust in the air of the dirt patches immediately surrounding the complex. Beyond that, grass crept into the lesser-traveled paths to stretch over a mile before becoming forest; no one enjoyed a surprise attack. Surveying the radius from atop the fort walls, hand unconsciously gripping one of the mounted spring-bows, the icing was set onto the cake: the tour was over. When they marched in an hour, it would be straight back to the city, and there was no reason to take any path other than the Iron Road. Decades of experience had taught the world never to strike there.
“Sir.” The young voice snapped him out of his spiral of thought.
“I’ll be downstairs in five, soldier,” the Lieutenant Colonel responded curtly. That was enough for the boy.
With time approaching, Kyle took one last breath before moving to join his men. When he left his vantage, his hand trailed wistfully on the crossbow, scratching against the rust setting in. He’d have to speak with someone about that before he left.
On the grounds, with the march was nearly underway, Kyle came face to face with the reason for his extended stay in purgatory. Green Valley had the electricity and devices it needed, but everything requires repair, especially when soldiers are involved. So a set of engineers had resided at the base for a couple weeks now to get the way-station functioning again, and had delayed the battalion's departure to provide an escort once their work was done.
The smooth face framed in blonde before him belonged to Elizabeth Vogel. Kyle had seen her over the past couple days in meetings with the other officers and directing her engineers. Regardless of who she was in the city, there was a chain of command out here and she was at the top of her little world. Seeing him, she extended a soft hand.
“Lieutenant Colonel Davar. I understand we’ll be marching alongside you for this journey. I hope you don’t mind a chatty companion.”
March? The woman looked too soft to handle more than an hour of their pace. Looking behind the woman, though, he saw a set of pack-horses laden with all sorts of tools and devices. There was no room for passengers.
Looking back to the engineer, he saw her as more prepared than he had come to expect of civilians. Sturdy black boots and form-fitting clothing meant she wouldn't be dragged down by the complaints of her own body. Notably, there were no sleeves; she wouldn’t have to worry about heat as the day went on. Suddenly feeling the weight of his armor, Kyle wished he could say the same.
“It will be no trouble at all, ma’am. Just keep the pace.” The officer turned from their conversation to bark a commands. “Form up!”
The road was hot today, both the the sun and the fire within. It was an itch. Kyle could go long periods of time without scratching it, but he needed to eventually. He was supposed to have had it by now. Jess and Selene would know what to do. They always knew better than him.
“Fuck!”
Elizabeth had tripped, but the human had barely begun falling before Kyle grabbed her arm and yanked back to steady her. Her skin felt smooth and unbroken to his rough hands; Humans really were soft.
“Thank you, officer” Elizabeth gasped.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“So? What are your thoughts on it?”
What? Had they been talking? Kyle had really zoned out there.
“I’m afraid you startled me enough to lose my train of thought,” he replied.
“Ha! Well if my sloppy civilian marching is too much for you, perhaps you really do need to make room for me to ride somewhere.” She jumped in the air to turn around, continuing to keep pace as she looked behind. She was smiling broadly. How come she got to enjoy herself while he felt trapped?
“How about in there? I can’t imagine it’s very full.
He turned to see the carriage Elizabeth pointed to halfway down the remainder of the train of bodies. It consisted of thick wooden planks that did not match each other, and dull steel bindings at the corners and across the door. The soldiers kept their distance as if the smell of rotten meat were seeping through the openings.
The Lieutenant Colonel’s mouth drew to a line. “I’m afraid we cannot do that, ma’am. That’s where we keep the taxes.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “You collect that much?” Her voice rose dramatically in pitch as she spoke.
“No,” Kyle replied, his eyes choosing to focus on the trees surrounding them. Under the cloudless sky, it was apparent just how many shades of green they held. “The other taxes.”
“Oh.” She turned back around, wringing her hands and looking anywhere else. “Them.”
"For the people who made this system, you sure seem ashamed of it."
Elizabeth took a deep breath, as if crisp forest air would provide the answers she sought. If it could, the sun had baked the answers out by now, leaving nothing but stale oxygen and dust.
"It– I mean– we do what we must to survive. They fall under that category. It's not like they live in discomfort or anything."
Kyle couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Now I'm just a lowly barren over here, uninformed about how reproduction works and all that, but it's my understanding that annually going into labor would cause... discomfort."
Elizabeth burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again. "Don't remind me. The priestesses like to tell us it's just an ache that lasts longer than you'd like, but all I hear from my friends is that they wish it were worse just so they could finally black out from it all."
"Sounds like military life."
Kyle and Elizabeth continued to talk as the march went on. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he felt the flame die down, just a little bit.